


Pre and Post

by tielan



Series: Meeting Halfway [19]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Before and After, F/M, Love, Mission Planning, Shower Sex, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5957068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are places Maria would rather be at 0200 hours – such as with Steve, and places she would much rather not be at 0200 hours – such as her office. Tonight, she’s managed both which should technically balance it out. Technically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre and Post

**Author's Note:**

> Day 18 of this series that's been running for the better part of four years: _Doing something together._

There are places Maria would rather be at 0200 hours – such as with Steve, and places she would much rather not be at 0200 hours – such as her office.

Tonight, she’s managed both which should technically balance it out.

Technically.

“Four entry points, not counting the vents.”

“Since I wouldn’t fit in them, let’s not.” He turns the diagram and points at a long tube coming into the diagram from the side. “What about this?”

“Old sewerage line.” Maria eyes it. “They don’t make them that large anymore. I suppose it’s a fifth entry point.”

“They said the job might be dirty at times,” Steve quirks a smile at her. “I don’t think they meant it like that.”

“It’s going to be noxious,” she warns. “We’ll have to run you through a full decontam afterwards.” And he’s probably still going to reek afterwards. She has a very sensitive nose, and if there’s even a _hint_ of sewer…

He grimaces. “The less warning we give them, the better. They’ll have the other points under watch; but this one is less likely.”

“Or they’ll have calculated the greater likelihood of someone trying this entry and bugged it accordingly.” Maria shrugs. “We can rig a wetsuit up for you to shed when you’re out the other end—”

“Wouldn’t it take too long to get out of?”

“Depends on the tech. We’ve had a few ideas from Lang’s suit; they’re prototypes but I’m pretty sure they’ll work something up. At the least you’ll have breathing apparatus.” Yes, his health will hardly take a hit from the noxious fumes, but the less he has to fight for his health, the better he’ll fight the enemy. And that’s really the point after all, isn’t it?

He nods, reaching into the diagram and zooming in on the room. “So, out in the treatment plant; that’s two levels up to central security and two levels down to the reactor .”

“The reactor.” Maria meets his arched brow and emphasises it. “We want the reactor core, first and foremost; Meecham is a secondary goal. And, frankly, we’ll put Barton up high on watch and if Meecham shows his face above-ground on the way out, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“And the rest of the facility? I can’t let the others in if I don’t bring down security.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Maria brings up the other half of the plan – because he didn’t really think she was sending him in there alone. “You’re not the only one going in, Rogers.”

He blinks, surprised. Sometimes it irritates her, that he can still be surprised by her planning ahead. But he grins. “Guess I should know better.”

“Yes. You should.”

Steve puts up his hands, his expression rueful and apologetic. “So, Bucky goes in by the front door and I sneak in through the sewers? And Hawkeye on high.”

“A three-pronged attack means at least one of you should manage to achieve the mission objective.”

There’s a moment when Maria thinks he’s going to lean across the desk interface and kiss her, right here in her office. After a moment, the tension eases, and he just grins. “Oh ye of little faith.”

* * *

Maria pushes her shower door open, and surprises him with his hands soaped up in his hair, scrubbing madly.

“Didn’t you go through decontam?”

“Yeah.” Even through the mist, his expression is sour. “I swear, I can still smell sewer on me.”

Unhooking her earpiece, she tosses it onto the vanity, and begins unzipping her uniform. His hands drop to his sides, and she lifts one eyebrow, her body heating when she realises he’s watching. Not that she’s going to make a floorshow of it, even for him. She pulls of her bra and peels off her panties. He opens the door, all gentleman-like, to let her step in.

Politeness and courtesy take a back seat, however, the instant she reaches up to stroke her fingers through his soapy hair. He bends down to take her mouth in his, and his hands slick down the sides of her body, pulling her up against him.

“I only came in to wash your hair.” And she works her fingers along his scalp, scrubbing every inch in case there’s something left behind.

“Plans change,” he murmurs against her cheek while his hands skim her skin, strong fingers stroking delicious tingles into her flesh. “You had Romanoff ready to send in.”

Maria works her hands around to the back of his head before trailing her fingertips down his nape. “Good thing I did, too.”

“No argument here.” Steve ducks his head again for another kiss, then eases them around so his head is under the spray, even as their mouths meet, greet, and go back for more until they’re both a little breathless. “I guess you’re going to insist on scrubbing me over before you let me into bed?”

“Are you objecting?” Maria rubs her hip, slippery, against his hardening erection.

“Nope.” He nips at her mouth again, then presses his hands against the cubicle wall, like he’s about to submit to a pat-down at security. “Just be gentle with me, okay?”

She’s gentle – and thorough. Neck and shoulders, arms and chest, belly and thighs and calves and feet. By the time she rubs her fingers around his balls, Steve’s breathing is hoarse and his cock is hard and hot when she leans forward and sucks him into her mouth.

His, “Oh, fuck, _Maria_ ,” is music to her ears, and she wastes no time in licking, sucking, nipping, working him to first release.

He wastes no time in pulling her up and kissing her, his tongue licking at hers, as though he wants to taste himself on her. And then his hands are on her body, hoisting her up against the wall, impaling her in a single stroke, and fucking her slow and rhythmic until she shivers and quakes and cries out in hoarse and hushed tones.

Afterwards, cleaned up and dried off, Maria does her night routine – checks her mail, checks her weapon, puts her boots beside the bed. Then she slides in between the sheets, up against a sleepy Steve, who settles himself against her.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he mumbles into her nape.

She probably shouldn’t – not here, at work. And yet she has. “Oh ye of little faith,” she murmurs, curling his arm around her waist.


End file.
